


Shark Toothed: A-Side

by HowardR



Category: Celeste (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Banter, Celeste tags are hard, Drinking, Eventual Happy Ending, Fear, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm re-writing this fic, Insomnia, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kinda?, Mental Health Issues, Possessive Behavior, Rewrite, Slice of Life, Violence, Weirdness, and maybe more angst, disassociating, im not super sure yet, probably with less romance, sometimes it's not though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 17:00:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30024933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowardR/pseuds/HowardR
Summary: Madeline... really isn't okay. But, despite that, she's managed to get herself into a too-expensive college; and is far too anxious about going to school.And - uh - she doesn't think she was supposed to have a roommate, and this goth chick is... not bad, but certainly not compatible with her personality.
Relationships: Badeline & Madeline (Celeste)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Shark Toothed: A-Side

“This is it, Madeline.”

Rain poured on her windshield, the sky rolling out in front of her - dark and heavy. The road was silent but for the smooth rolling of wheels and the patter of harsh rain, and the wind buffeted bugs onto her 2013 Volkswagen Beetle - in humble brown.

“Just…  _ breathe.” _

Her fingers held the wheel in a death grip, white from pressure. Anxiety curled in the pit of her stomach, and squirmed - like it was trying to find the best place to sleep.

Like a tired cat. It had been kneading in her stomach for a long time - prickling and tearing away again and again. And now it finally settled, and just  _ squirmed. _

“Why are you so nervous?” she muttered, looking up - as if an answer would come from the roof of her car. Or maybe her head would answer.

It didn’t.

The harsh slam of her car door spilled out into the silent woods. 

There was a single lone building amongst the greenery - standing tall and proud despite its dull colour palette and lack of interesting structure. She didn’t see a sign on the front, but she knew she was at the right address. No place could look more… school-ish than that.

School-ish? School-like?

...Scholarly?

That didn’t sound right, but -

_ Christ, Madeline, even in your head you can’t focus, _ she thought, scowling slightly at nothing. She pulled her thick, baby blue mud-stained coat tighter around her, flipping her hair out of her face half-heartedly.

_ You’re getting absolutely soaked because you can’t work up the guts to step into a school, _ some voice in her head sneered.

She wanted to give it a witty, optimistic response, but drew a blank.

She stared up at the looming spectre, and took another deep breath. There was a pressure on her chest she knew too well, but she did her best to shake it off.

It didn’t shake.

She stepped forward anyway, mustering up any scrap of courage she could.

* * *

She glanced up from the off-white form she had received in the mail. Right there, on the front of the door, stood two numbers, staring down at her like glittering golden eyes.

_ 23. _

She had almost expected it to be 66 or 42 or something - something appropriately terrifying, cosmically important.

She wasn’t sure if the mundanity of the number made her less anxious or not.

Her hand reached for the knob, pale and tiny and utterly fragile.

Inane thoughts ran through her head, ridiculous fears and anxieties all getting a moment to shine.

_ What if this is the wrong room? _

_ What if it’s filled with cobwebs and rats? _

_ What if it’s a storage closet? _

_ What if it’s someone’s office? _

_ What if - _

She firmly gripped the doorknob, and turned it before she lost her nerve.

It swung smoothly.

_...Was I supposed to have a roommate? _

Because it was either that, or her fears (inane as they may have been) had just been confirmed. Because, sitting on an eggshell white bedspread - was a girl.

Well,  _ girl. _ It was certainly a  _ she, _ but, for some reason, Madeline didn’t think the term  _ girl _ really fit here.  _ Broad,  _ maybe. Or  _ chick. _

She had thick, long hair - long enough to spill out onto the bedsheets, and reach the girl’s ankles when she was standing. It was a dark purple - just dark enough that Madeline spent a second wondering if it might just be black and the light had caught it oddly, and just purple enough that she felt stupid for wondering that when she realized it wasn’t true. She was wearing a thin black windbreaker with a perfectly polished zipper, and dark jeans with tears at the knees.

She had a leather-bound book in her lap, and was writing in it with a fountain pen. Madeline only had a moment to wonder at the fact that she could’ve  _ sworn _ she had that  _ exact _ notebook back at home, before the girl glanced up.

And it seemed that, to complete the goth theme, she was pale in  _ just _ the right way that Madeline thought it might just be makeup, but couldn’t be sure.

“Oh.”

The girl’s voice was sultry. She stood - far more smoothly than was fair - and tilted her head as she inspected Madeline.

“Huh.”

She untitled her head, and tossed the book onto the bed.

“So - you’re my roomie, eh?”

Madeline paused, and then offered a hesitant smile.

“Uhm, yeah, I am.”  _ I guess, _ muttered some voice in her head. 

She held out her hand. “I’m Madeline.”

The girl gripped it. Her skin was oddly cold.

“Ba-” 

The girl paused, though it was so short that Madeline almost thought she had imagined it. 

“Tracey,” the girl ( _ Tracey, apparently, _ Madeline thought distantly) responded.

Her nails were painted the same colour as her hair.

“...Nice to meet you.” Madeline’s voice was hesitant and thoughtful. Not a word from her mouth seemed confident.

“Likewise,” Tracey drawled. With that, she turned around, walking over to her bed and picking up the notebook again. She uncapped her fountain pen and said, without looking up;

“Well, Madeline, looks like we’ll have to deal with each other for a while. Fair warning, I’ll probably bring some guys into bed, though I’ll try to give you advance notice. If you touch my journal I’ll kill you.”

And, with that, Tracey seemed to decide Madeline wasn’t worth paying attention to.

“Erm - okay?” Madeline said, trying in vain to keep her tone from falling flat.

“...Good night.”

“Yeah, yeah - go to bed already, Madeline.” The girl answered tiredly, pen scratching away. “I won’t be dropping dead on my mattress for at  _ least _ a few hours yet - but I won’t make any noise. Try to get your head in the game before classes start.”

Madeline blinked. “...Alright.”

She walked over to the bed on the opposite side of the room, and laid down. Tracey flicked out the lights, and turned on a small but bright reading lamp, putting it between her teeth.

Madeline took a moment to note that Tracey must also wear coloured contacts - eyes didn’t naturally come in that shade of velvet red.

_ At least her teeth are clean, _ Madeline thought. Maybe with a bit more harshly than intended. Either way, though, she didn’t have time to take it back before she started to drift off - drained from a long night of driving.

Even as her vision went black, Tracey didn’t stop writing.

* * *

‘Tracey’ looked down at the girl, laying on the bed across from her with hair in her face. The moonlight pouring through the single window in the room lit the edge of her silhouette in a soft, dreamy white.

She’d been scrawling in her notebook for hours, now. Standing up made her knees ache a little. Sensations were… strange.

She knelt by the girl’s side, and tucked her hair behind her ear, out of her face.

“...Sweet dreams, Maddie,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm re-writing this fic. This first chapter is mostly the same, though, because on a re-read, it was... surprisingly well-done, for when I had written it. I expected a lot worse.
> 
> The rest of this re-write is gonna be more noticeable. I'll try to post again by next Saturday.
> 
> And you may notice a small title change <-<
> 
> That'll get explained later.
> 
> Sleep Deprived,
> 
> -Howard R.


End file.
